


Stupid Frickin' English Professors

by ratherbehere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Dirty Talk, Firefighter Dean, Light Dom/sub, Light Spanking, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Professor Castiel, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:10:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9464654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherbehere/pseuds/ratherbehere
Summary: Based onthis promptfrom destielmybeatingheart.Dean is a hot firefighter who saves hot professor Cas's life. Turns out Cas is not as soft and innocent as he appears. Smut ensues.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [destielmybeatingheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielmybeatingheart/gifts).



> I wrote this A LONG time ago, but people were having problems with the read more link on Tumblr, and it really should have been cross posted to AO3 a long time ago anyway.
> 
> Point is, my writing has probably grown since I wrote this (it's been five year, so god I hope so) but people still seem to enjoy it. So. Enjoy. :)

Stupid bloody frickin English professors and their goddamn book obsessions. Dean is absolutely positive he will strangle this Castiel Novak when he finds him in this inferno.

They thought they were done, just needing to wash the blaze out, when a timid student walked up to him and told him that she thought Castiel Novak was still inside. He likes to read in the afternoons, in preparation for his evening class, and has a tendency to nod off. And she doesn’t see him outside.

Goddamn English professors and their stupid second floor offices.

The smoke up here is thick now. The fire is still pretty far away, but the smoke is building much faster. Dean’s equipment only goes so far. If he can’t find this guy soon, he’ll have to give up. Dean does NOT like giving up.

Stupid frickin nerds.

Just as he’s about to call it a wash, a man with crazy black hair flies extremely ungracefully out of a door a few feet away. He’s coughing terribly and looks extremely panicked. His eyes light on Dean and fill quickly with hope just before his eyes roll up and he passes out.

Stupid goddamn English teachers who need oxygen. Stupid, but hot, English professors.

Dean throws the man over his shoulder, noting that the dude’s suit was definitely hiding how slim he is. He rushes out of the building, smoke billowing behind him, to cheers from the students that had gathered. Everyone loves a show, and Dean doesn’t really mind being a hero. Even if this wasn’t so much about heroics, considering the guy practically fell on him.

Dean doesn’t dwell on that though as the ambulance rushes the poor guy to the hospital.  He pushes the wild haired, slim, blue eyed man to the side and focuses on joining his comrades in actually putting the fire out.

~~~

When he goes to the hospital straight from the fire to check on Andy, who had twisted his ankle in the battle against blaze, it’s purely curiosity that leads Dean to checking if Castiel Novak had been taken to the same hospital. And it’s purely because he’s a nice guy that he decides to go see if he’s okay. It’s totally not because he was hot, even in those 2 seconds before the dude passed out Dean could tell that. It’s not because he wants to hit on the guy. 

Too bad Castiel Novak isn’t on board with that plan.

Dean walks into his room and Castiel wobbles his head in his direction. Castiel’s head comically follows as his eyes rake up and down Dean’s body, taking in the firefighter’s uniform (minus mask and helmet) before he smiles lopsidedly and says thickly with a deep, gravelly voice, “Hey handsome.”

Dean’s eyes widen in surprise at the forward language. Then he remembers. Drugs. Right.

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, hi. I, uh, I’m Dean Winchester, I’m the one who-“

“Pulled me from the fire?”

“How did you-“

“Who else would come check on me? Wearing that uniform anyway,” Castiel says as his eyes rake up and down Dean again.

“Yeah, well. Looks like you’re doing okay, so-“

“And what a uniform,” the guy continues, completely ignoring Dean. “God, look at you. Do you have any idea how incredibly hot you are in that?”

“Uh-“ Dean says, feeling his face redden.

“Mmmm,” Castiel says, nodding his head in a jell-o like manner, confirming that he is definitely still high on some sort of meds, “But I bet you’re pretty hot out of it too, aren’t you.”

Well yes, he is. And if this were any different situation, if the guy weren’t drugged out of his mind, Dean might play back. But the guy is drugged, and they met for like 30 seconds before this, so he should be stopping him and walking away.  But he doesn’t.

Castiel beckons him closer, and closer, until his lips are devilishly tickling his ear.

“You should come by my office Thursday after my class. I’ll take you out of that uniform and thank you properly. Would you like that?” he whispers to Dean. Dean swallows hard. “Yeah, I think you would. Want me to strip you bare, bend you over my desk, and shove my tongue inside your pretty little ass? I’ll have you writhing and moaning until you just can’t take it anymore, begging me to let you ride my hard cock. And I will let you. I’ll fuck you so hard, Dean, you’ll scream my name over and over again. And only after I’ve filled your ass with my come will I let you touch yourself. I’ll let you jerk yourself into the best orgasm you’ve ever had.”

Dean is now awkwardly, horribly hard in his uniform. Damn, he has to find out what drugs they have this guy on.

“Sure,” he says with a squeak, standing up and stepping back. It’s not like Castiel is going to remember he ever said any of this. “Yeah, okay. Uh. Glad you’re feeling better. I’m just going to… go.”

Dean leaves quickly, but pops his head in one more time. Dude is already asleep.

Stupid frickin hotter than hell, perverted, cock teasing English teachers.

~~~

It wasn’t hard to find Professor Novak’s class. It was in the same building as his office, on the wing that wasn’t damaged, so they didn’t bother moving the class location to a different room. Dean could hear Castiel’s deep, rich voice from the hallway. He poked his head in the door to take a look.

Castiel Novak was sitting on the desk at the front, facing a rather large lecture hall. Considering it was an evening class, the fact that the room was mostly full was surprising. Though, after a good look at the teacher sitting at the desk, it wasn’t hard to understand.

Dean was standing firm by his assessment that the guy was hot. And now that he’s not choking on smoke, passing out, wearing a hospital gown, or drugged out of his mind, he was even hotter. Even from the back of the room Dean could tell the guy’s blue eyes were alive and sparkling. And though Dean didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, it didn’t matter. That deep, gravelly voice could read the phone book for all Dean cared. It’s a shame it will probably pass when the smoke damage is gone.

Dean’s not really sure what he’s doing here. His excuse was the he wanted to check up on the guy, though that was hardly normal, and far from the truth. He could argue that because Castiel was out of his mind when he stopped by, this would be a good chance to actually, properly introduce himself.  But the truth was, when he left work he hadn’t decided what to do and yet somehow found himself at the college anyway.  Good intentions aside, some part of him was obviously intrigued by Castiel Novak and wanted more.

Still, the guy wasn’t going to remember Dean or his sexy promises, so Dean was just beginning to feel silly for coming when Castiel looked up and caught his eye. Dean froze as recognition flashed across Castiel’s face. Recognition, but not surprise, as slow smirk played at the corner of his lips before he continued lecturing like nothing had happened.

Dean could hardly leave now, could he? Well, he _could_. But Castiel had recognized him, Dean was certain. And maybe he was just imagining the smirk, but Dean has the strangest feeling maybe the guy remembers what he had said after all. And Dean’s not sure whether he’s thrilled or terrified by that thought.

The class ends half an hour later and Dean watches the students file past him. Then Castiel is walking up to him, and Dean is definitely not imagining the smile playing at his lips.

“Hello Dean,” he says as his eyes go up and down Dean’s body, taking in his regulation polo and slacks. “Not quite the same as the full suit, but it won’t be on you long anyway.”

Dean feels his face redden quickly, and he is so not used to that feeling. He sputters, “I thought you wouldn’t remember all that.”

“Then why are you here?” Castiel asks with a small head tilt.

“Um. I don’t know?”

“Hmm,” Castiel says, nodding his head, thinking. He steps close to Dean and Dean feels his heart rate speed up as Castiel whispers, “Then the question is… What do _you_ remember?” He pulls back and looks at Dean and bites his lip. “Let’s see what you can recall. Where were you supposed to meet me at Dean?”

“I got here early, thought I’d-”

“Dean. Where.” Castiel commands, cutting him off.

Dean swallows, and his confusion on whether to be aroused or afraid deepens. “Your office,” he finally says, his voice a little rougher than normal.

“Very good,” Castiel says, nodding. “Follow me then.”

And Dean does.

~~~

Dean makes it one step into Castiel’s office before the door is shut and Dean is slammed up against it. He barely processes this before Castiel is pressed into him, and thick warm lips are roughly claiming his own. He groans in shock as Castiel grinds his hips into Dean, thrusting his tongue into Dean’s mouth. It’s so possessive, it makes Dean dizzy.

Castiel breaks off abruptly, and Dean is pleased that he’s breathing as roughly as himself.

“What comes next, Dean?” Castiel finally asks, his hands working up Dean’s polo.

Dean reddens again at the memory.

“Dean,” Castiel warns, pinching his nipple.

“Oh fuck!” Dean says, slamming his head back into the door. “You, you were going to. Tongue. Ass. Licking.” It’s about all Dean manages to get out before he groans again as Cas suddenly grips  his erection through his pants.

“Take your clothes off and bend over the desk,” Castiel says, stepping back and crossing his arms.

Dean totally does not hurry to rip his clothes off. He doesn’t. He’s just… well practiced at removing clothes efficiently. The fact that Castiel is watching him with those piercing blue eyes, taking in and evaluating every curve of his body, smiling in approval at what he sees, bears absolutely no impact on the speed of his cloth removal.

Castiel’s desk is covered in books, causing Dean to hesitate. Toss the books off? Bend over them? He settles for the latter, bending over the pile and placing his hands on the outer edges, at the only two places not covered in literature.

He hears Castiel “hmm” in pleasure and decides he made the right decision.

At least, he thought so, until eons past by and Castiel still hasn’t touched him.

“Cas?” he finally asks.

He yelps as a firm hand smacks his ass hard.

“Impatient Dean?” Castiel asks and Dean can practically hear the evil smirk as Castiel rubs the sore butt cheek before smacking it again. “My name is Castiel.” Another smack. “I do not recall giving you permission to call me anything else.” Another smack.

“Ah! Fuck! Castiel!” Dean calls out, his fingers curling over the edge of the desk. “I’m sorry, please, just-“ He’s cut off by another smack.

“Lucky for you, I like the nickname,” Cas says, smacking him again. Both sides are now pleasantly tingling, riding the edge of pain and arousal. “You may use it.”

Dean swallows. When did he agree to this game? His cock throbs, reminding him just when and how he agreed to all this. “Cas, then. Castiel. _Professor_.” It was a guess, and sure enough, he feels Castiel shudder behind him. “Cas, please. I want…” He breaks off to groan again as he feels Castiel’s hand slide to the center and a finger ghosts over his hole.

“What do you want Dean?”

“Ahhh,” Dean half moans as the finger prods gently. “You said tongue damnit.”

That earns him another smack.

“You should show me some respect Dean,” Castiel growls. Dean has a brief moment of fear that this is all over when the man steps away. But Castiel has simply moved to the front of the desk, pulling open a drawer and plopping a bottle of lube and a condom on the desk edge, near Dean’s hip. “But yes, I did promise I’d lick that sweet ass of yours. Is that what you want Dean?” Cas asks as he steps behind Dean again, gently stroking Dean’s hips and letting his erection brush lightly at Dean’s cheek through his slacks.

It’s a strong contrast to the spankings and it lights Dean’s nerve ending s on fire, causing his brain to shut down and a low moan to escape.

He doesn’t respond to Castiel’s question quickly enough, and the light touches suddenly change back into a quick, stinging smack.

“Fuck Cas! Yes! Yes, I want your tongue. I want it inside me. I want you to suck at my hole while you fuck me with your tongue. I want-“ he breaks off as Cas suddenly spreads his cheeks, kneels down, and swipes his tongue over his puckered asshole. “Ah! Fuck!”

Castiel  has most certainly done this many times before. He knows exactly how to drive Dean positively insane. He licks the puckered perineum thoroughly before letting the tip of his tongue dart in quickly, removing it just as fast, to continue licking at the outside. He presses his lips complete around the hole and sucks, but still barely darts his tongue at the hole. The teasing has Dean moaning and cussing and fucking begging for more, like some wanton porn star whore.

“Cas… Please…” he manages to get out through a shattered voice.

There is a pause as Castiel grabs for the bottle of lube and coats his fingers. A slick digit slides straight inside Dean without warning, causing him to yelp and buck forward. A few books crash to the ground. Then there’s tongue licking around the finger, sliding in along with it when he relaxes enough and Dean is reduced to nothing but nerve endings and pleasure.

Cas alters fingers and tongue and combinations thereof at a speed Dean can’t fathom, never letting him get to used to a sensation before changing it up again. Sometimes he lets a finger drag over his prostate, but never in any regularity, never enough to let an orgasm build, but always enough to keep him on the edge, to drive him mad with pleasure. He’s leaking precome all over the carpet, in absurd amounts.

As a few fingers pound in and out with a rhythm Cas had yet to give Dean, he hears a zipper being undone. Suddenly Cas is gone. Completely gone, and Dean whimpers hard.

“Please…”

“What comes next Dean?”

Dean looks up and Cas is sitting in his desk chair, fully clothed, with his zipper undone and his boxers pulled down far enough to let his erection stand straight up while he strokes it slowly. A smirk plays at Castiel’s lips. It hits Dean that while his ass has been ate out and pounded with long, beautiful fingers, Castiel has been fully clothed the entire time. He feels another shot of arousal run down his spine at the thought, and he really, really wants to feel that cock inside him.

“Oh fuck,” Dean says, suddenly remembering what comes next. Cas quirks an eyebrow and Dean licks his lips. “I… I ride you.”

“Oh?”

“I want to… I want to ride you.” And he really, really does. “Please, Cas. _Professor_. Let me ride you. Need-”

“As you wish.”

He’s off the desk and positioning himself over Castiel’s cock, his back to Castiel and ready to sit down on him, in the blink of an eye.

Castiel suddenly grabs his hips, stopping him from sliding down.

“The condom Dean. You forgot the condom,” Castiel says. Finally, Cas sounds a little wrecked himself. But he’s right, Dean did forget about the condom.

“You said-“

“I know what I said, but safety-“

“Fuck it, I’m clean.”

“I am too, but for your sake-“

“Don’t fucking care,” Dean growls, forcing himself down on to Castiel’s cock hard. Cas lets out a yelp and throws his head backwards. He wasn’t expecting _that_ , and it’s Dean’s turn to smirk.

Impaling yourself ass first on a dude’s cock probably isn’t the smartest thing in the universe, but Dean was thoroughly –very thoroughly- prepared, and he’s so far gone that the twinge of pain barely registers. He slides himself down the little bit of the way it takes to get Castiel fully seated inside him, feeling buttons and zippers press into his ass cheek. Castiel is _still_ fully clothed. Fucking hell.

He makes sure both his feet are fully supporting him on the floor and that the armrests will support his weight, before his lifts himself up and slams back down. He’s not sure which of them moan louder at that.

Dean tries to set a fast pace, but Castiel grips his hips tightly and forces him to slow down. Dean’s assessment that the guy is thin still stands, but he’s also a lot stronger than he looks. Dean will have bruises on his hips tomorrow.

“Cas…” he moans. “Fuck, Cas. Fuck.”

“Mmmm….” Castiel agrees.

“Touch me Cas, please,” he hears himself beg. He needs a hand on his cock like yesterday. It hasn’t been touched at all through this and it’s screaming for release.

“You know that’s not the plan,” Cas says. Dean’s about to say fuck it to the plan when Cas’s grip hardens and suddenly he’s no longer riding Cas. Cas is thrusting up, hammering into him.

It’s brutal and harsh and pounding so straight and directly into his prostate that Dean actually screams.

“Cas!”

“That’s not my name Dean,” Castiel growls as he pounds even harder, faster.

“Castiel! Castiel! Goddamn it, Castiel! Fucking-“

He’s broken off by Castiel’s cry, as Cas holds him down and empties inside of him.

Dean’s heart is pounding in his ear, and he’s so fucking close to his own release, he can’t stand it. He jerks a little in surprise when Castiel says right in his ear, “Touch yourself Dean. Let me see you come.”

He fists himself and comes so hard he sees white.

~~~

The only thing Dean is aware of for the next few minutes is heavy breathing and pounding hearts.

There is an arm wrapped around his waist and Castiel’s cheek is pressed flat to his back, quick puffs of breath ghosting across his skin.

“We should do this again,” Dean finally says. Castiel laughs.

“Definitely.”

“Shame your throat will be all healed up soon. That gravel is damn sexy.”

“Dean,” he says, kissing his shoulder. “My voice always sounds like this.”

Dean shudders.

Stupid, frickin, hotter than hell, sex God, gravel voiced English professors.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize profusely for my obvious lack of knowledge regarding firefighters and fighting fires. I hope any problems did not distract much.


End file.
